I came in for a place to stare
at nothing from a leather chair
To lose to a Sumatran dream
underneath a cloud of cream

Others seem to be alone
while grafted to a mobile phone
Or furiously diarising
No time for philosophising

I suppose He won’t be found
In beans, however freshly ground
in mocha with an extra shot
But then again... where is He not?

Sumangali Morhall
March 2005

Photograph by Pavitrata